


Otherside

by funhauswiki



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, gavin is fresh out of jail, ryan takes care of farm animals, that's it. that's the fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-02
Updated: 2018-05-10
Packaged: 2019-05-01 00:57:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14509017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/funhauswiki/pseuds/funhauswiki
Summary: Gavin Free was sentenced to 18 months in a federal prison in West Texas on 8 counts of forgery in the state of California. Released on parole after 11 months, Gavin wants nothing more than to be as far away from Los Angeles and his old life as possible, so he does what any sane person would do— hitchhikes across Texas until people stop asking him if he's just been released from jail. Until the grass turns green and he doesn't recognise where the hell he is.Help comes from a local farm vet, Ryan Haywood, who needs some extra hands in his office and on calls. Gavin is warned that Ryan is hard to get along with; he's been the vet serving two counties ever since he got out of school, and although he's good at what he does, he's not exactly a personable guy. Gavin however, gladly takes the work.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> the fabled return of funhauswiki
> 
> but i couldn't have written it without the help of my wonderful wife, sam. thanks, buddy. 
> 
> this is probably going to burn very slowly, but i promise that it will turn into freewood sooner rather than not. stick around, let me know what you think, or don't. love you either way.

Gavin's eyes are closed, squeezed tightly shut as he bumps along a dusty road somewhere in West Texas. He looks down at his wrist to see the time and when the screen on his Apple watch lights up, he feels strangely dirty. When he got out, he'd been given back all of the effects he had when he went in, and looking down now at the digital **15:33** he can't help but feel a slew of mixed emotions. He feels guilty and undeserving. He feels like an idiot. When he starts to roll down the manual window in the truck, the driver doesn't pay him any attention. The wind is whipping passed the window and when Gavin takes a breath, he gets a lung full of grit and dry air. He unfastens the strap of his watch and chucks it out the window, feeling somewhat better when he watches the tiny black device quickly fly out of view and into the red dust around them. Finally the stranger who picked him up looks over at him and gives a confused look. Gavin doesn't say anything. He rolls his window up, curls his arm under his cheek and tries to close his eyes again with the steady rock and rhythm of the truck pushing him towards sleep. 

Later, Gavin is woken up by his stranger, a couple light taps on his shoulder and he jerks awake. His driver mentions that this is as far as he can take him, and Gavin nods. He thanks the man for the ride and gets out of the old truck, stepping into the parking lot of a surprisingly large filling station. Gavin digs his phone out of the pocket of his jeans— it's long dead, not that he would have called someone anyway. The wallet in his back pocket is dangerously thin, but he has a credit card, which he hopes still works, and he heads inside the building.

Inside he finds shitty gas station food, but it's warm and greasy and better than anything he's had in the last 11 months. He grabs a Gatorade from the refrigerators and finds a portable phone charger that will work. He steps up to the counter, setting down his haul and pulls his wallet from his back pocket. The young man behind the counter is watching him carefully, and Gavin has to wonder if it's written on him somewhere—

**JUST GOT OUT OF PRISON.**

The machine thankfully takes his credit card, and he scoops up his new possessions in his arms and carries them outside without thanking the cashier. He feels guilty about that too. He walks around to the side of the building, as out of other people's way as he can be, and sits down on the pavement. He plugs the battery pack into his phone and while it boots up, he opens his box of food. 

The two slices of slimy cheese pizza look like something that will upset his stomach later, but he gobbles them down so fast he barely got to taste it. The screen on the battery pack says it only has 27% power but it's enough to get his phone going and get a decent charge. He wipes his hands off on his pants and picks up his phone. 

_99+ Missed Calls_  
99+ Emails  
99+ New Messages  
16 New Voicemails 

Gavin doesn't look at a single one of them. Instead, he opens Google Maps. He logs into the wifi at the filling station and when the GPS on his phone catches up with him, the blue ''you are here'' dot puts him just outside of a town called Big Spring. He's never heard of it— but then again he hadn't expected to know where the hell he was. He just wants to get as far away from Los Angeles as his wallet will let him. 

He turns his phone off again, but leaves the battery plugged in, hoping to get a decent charge on it before the pack runs out of power. He stands up and stretches his legs out, feeling cramped after sitting in that bumpy truck for so long. His knees and ankles crack as he walks to the nearby garbage can to throw away his trash and he slides his phone and the battery pack back into his pocket. 

Gavin never really was a shy or reserved person, but after 11 months in prison, he's learned what it means to be quiet. Unfortunately now, he has to talk to people if he wants to get anywhere. "Which way are you headed?'' he asks, following behind one of the women walking toward a semi-trailer. She turns to look at him like he's got two heads. ''Sorry, what I mean is,'' Gavin sighs. ''Could I get a ride? If you're going east.''

The woman scoffs at him. ''You just get out of jail or something?'' her southern accent is thick.

''Why does everyone ask me that?'' he says, annoyance in his tone.

''Honey, there's two jails in Big Spring. Isn't that where you came from?'' 

Gavin doesn't say anything— he can't. In fact, there are tears threatening to well up in his eyes and he doesn't trust himself to open his mouth. Thankfully, this woman continues for him. ''But yes, I am going east. My stop is in Fort Worth, is that far enough?'' she asks with as friendly of a smile as she could probably manage to a released prisoner. 

"How far is that?" Gavin asks, voice returning.

''Round about four hours or so.'' she explains, and Gavin considers her and his choices for a moment before he gives her a small nod. The woman shrugs and waves him over to her truck, and with some struggling, he manages to climb his way into the passenger seat and he settles in for another long stint of Texas highway.

Gavin had watched the landscape change as this kind stranger drove him across the state. The ground around them went from brown and barren dust to green and yellow grass. The rural, naked roads were suddenly surrounded by buildings and grown cities. Fort Worth was green with vegetation and trees, and Gavin hadn't expected anything like that in Texas.

''Still going east?'' The kind woman asks him, and Gavin nods. ''I'll drop you off on the north side of town then. It will make it easier to get through Dallas that way. Less traffic.'' she explains, and Gavin wishes he could properly thank her for her kindness.

In truth, Gavin has no idea where he's headed.

This stranger eventually drops him off at another truck stop. She told him that they were well outside of Fort Worth-proper, but the city she's dropped him off in still seems huge compared to the podunk towns he's landed in before this one. He thanks her for her generosity and seemingly in true Southern fashion, she brushes it off and wishes him good luck.

He uses the internet at the station to check his credit card balance on his phone and is surprised by what he sees. His current balance reads **$44.24** which is the amount he paid at the last truck stop for food and the phone charger. Gavin knows exactly who must have paid his previous balance while he was locked up. He changes the password on his account. He considers going through all of his accounts and changing the passwords, but his phone says it's at 36% and he wants to keep the charge for as long as possible. At least until he finds a place with an outlet. 

At this truck stop he buys a backpack, since he's sick of having to cram the cords from the battery pack into his pockets, and he buys a clean t-shirt to change into. The t-shirt is atrocious. A bright pink shirt with an obnoxious looking beaver on the front of it, and a faux-faded slogan on the back: "Here Comes the Fun!" Unfortunately for Gavin, it was the only shirt this place sold. 

After he's paid for his things, he steps into the bathroom to change. The new shirt, although an absolute abomination, is comfortable and certainly smells better than the one he'd been wearing for the last three days. He puts his old shirt and his electronics in the backpack and swings it over his shoulders. When he steps out of the stall, he can't help but catch himself in the wall-length mirror as he washes his hands. He looks like shit. He already knew that, but now he has to really look at himself. 

His hair is greasy, sticking up in every direction; his eyes are tired, he can see the dark circles that have formed under his eyelids. His lips are dry and cracked from the dust and his breath is horrible. He doesn't have any deodorant, and his beard is getting long and itchy. He hates what he sees in the mirror, so before he can dwell on it for too much longer, he wipes his wet hands on his jeans and nearly runs out of the bathroom. 

On his way out, he bumps into a man similar in height to him, with a large beard that reaches his chest. The man is stocky and barely budges when Gavin bumps into him and for a split second, he locks eyes with the stranger and then keeps walking. 

"Hey!" a voice calls, and Gavin looks back to see the bearded man with his hands up. "Aren't you going to apologise?" and Gavin probably would have just ran out of the building but the guy's tone wasn't one of anger, it was just filled with confusion.

"Uh, yes." Gavin stumbles over his words. "Yes, I'm sorry." he says, waiting to see if that will please the guy.

"Funny accent." the stranger says, and Gavin gives this guy a point for not asking if he just got released from prison. That must be a good sign. "You're not from around here?"

Gavin shakes his head. "I'm from LA." he says, and it was as if all of Gavin's rudeness was explained in those three words.

The guy nods knowingly. "Well then it all makes sense, don't it?" and the stranger must have noticed the way Gavin's face paled at that. "I'm only kidding. No harm, no foul man."

"Okay." Gavin says awkwardly, and for some reason he says: "it's been a rough couple days.. well, couple months actually. More than a couple." it spills out of him before he knows how to stop.

This kind stranger nods again, "We've all been there. Take it easy." his voice is kind and gentle and Gavin supposes this is that southern hospitality that everyone always talks about. Gavin says a quiet 'thanks' and makes his way out of the store without any food or drink this time.

Outside, the sun is starting to set. Gavin first makes a move to check his watch, and then remembers that he threw it out a window, so instead he pulls his phone from his pocket to check the time— **20:16.** It's getting late and now Gavin has to make a decision: lodge up here for the night or keep going. 

He's sitting on the curb of the parking lot, checking the map on his phone when a large truck drives by, pulling a trailer. He wouldn't have paid it any attention but the driver honked at him, and when Gavin looked up, the driver was rolling down the window.

"Need a ride?" it's the bearded stranger from inside the station. Gavin weighs his options, looking back and forth between the map on his phone and the truck in front of him. He stands up and approaches the window. 

"Where are you going?" Gavin asks, his voice barely loud enough to be heard over the diesel engine of the truck. 

"I'm going _home_ ," the man states. "Which is about 2 hours east of here. I'm headed back from a show." he says, pointing his thumb to the trailer. Gavin turns to looks, and sees two horses chewing on straw and swishing their tails. "You in or not?" 

Gavin nods eagerly at the mention of east and the stranger ushers him over to the passenger side. Gavin moves around the front of the truck, nearly having to plug his ear from how loud the vehicle is, and swings the door open to climb inside. 

Before they take off, the driver reaches over and offers Gavin his hand. "Jack." he says, arm outstretched and waiting. 

"Gavin." he says finally, sticking out his own hand, and they shake. The man called Jack shakes his hand once, firmly and them let's go, putting on hand on the steering wheel and the other on the gear select. 

"Nice to meet you, Gavin. Let's go." He turns to give Gavin a warm smile and they take off. The engine roars to life and make their way out of the parking lot. Gavin has done almost nothing but sleep during these rides with strangers, but he still finds himself to be dead tired, and he does his best to curl up in the passenger seat. The gentle, rhythmic hum and whine of this truck makes an easy lullaby, and the ride is so much smoother than the old Chevy or the semi-trailer from earlier. He falls asleep easily, quiet country music playing over the truck's radio.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i freakin love horses guys

For some reason, this ride feels like the longest one to Gavin. This new stranger— Jack had tried to ask him about his "rough couple months." He wanted to know about how Gavin got all the way into Texas from Los Angeles, but Gavin stayed tight-lipped. 

"I don't really feel comfortable talking about it." Gavin defends. "I'm not ill and I'm not a victim, if that's what you're asking." and he supposes his tone shut Jack up because there weren't any more questions about it. 

Gavin ended up falling asleep again on the last leg of the drive. It was unfulfilling, fitful and restless sleep that probably only lasted 45 minutes but it felt like he was in some sort of limbo for hours. He was daydreaming nightmares and couldn't wake up until he felt a hand shaking his shoulder. 

"Hey," Jack's voice is deep and somewhat soothing. "we're almost here and.." he trails off. "I didn't want to wake you at first but it didn't exactly look like peaceful sleep." Jack is glancing back and forth between Gavin and the road. 

"Sorry." Gavin says, which is stupid, but it's reflex at this point. 

"You have money?" Jack asks, and for a moment Gavin regrets getting into the damned truck at all. He hadn't figured this guy was going to charge him a fee like it's an Uber. 

"I uhm.." Gavin starts, and Jack must have sensed his confusion.

"What I mean is, a friend of a friend runs a motel here on the outskirts of town. I can probably get you a pretty good rate if you plan on sticking around for a while." Jack explains, and Gavin relaxes back into the seat as the truck heaves it's way down the road— which Gavin now notices is a smaller, run down highway instead of the busy interstates they had been on before. 

Gavin hadn't even considered staying in whatever place Jack would take him. He supposed he planned on going until his money ran out, but now the option was there, to plant his feet somewhere. The thought honestly terrified him. 

Despite himself, he finds himself saying "I could probably stay for a bit." and he looks over to see Jack smile softly, his eyes nearly closing from the push of his cheeks. 

"Well alright then." Jack nods to himself, seemingly pleased.

шшшшш

Gavin leans his head against the window again for the rest of the ride but he doesn't go back to sleep, he's had enough sleep to last him two weeks at this point, so when Jack pulls the truck up to a rickety looking motel off the side of the highway, Gavin eagerly gets out of the truck to stretch his aching limbs.

The parking lot is paved, but the surrounding area is dirt and dying grass, and Jack makes his way to the trailer secured behind his truck. "I just want to walk them out a bit, then we can go inside and I'll introduce you." Jack says, and Gavin nods.

He watches Jack pull the door of the trailer down and it becomes a ramp, lined with rubber matting. Gavin gets a good look inside of the trailer, there's hay and horse shit all over the place, but the horses seem calm. The older man takes a few steps into the trailer, the metal floor echoing with each step from his heavy boots, and Gavin watches him approach the horse, run a gentle hand along it's nose and neck, and then he unties the lead from the side of the trailer and coaxes the horse into the open.

Once the animal realises grass and dirt are in it's future, it comes bounding out after Jack, seemingly happy as can be, head swaying and tail flicking. The first horse is a deep chestnut colour with a dark snout and socks. The mane and tail are an ashy blonde colour and look as soft as silk. Gavin watches in awe as the animal trots circles around Jack, who eventually notices he's staring. 

"Wanna give it a whirl?" Jack asks, holding the lead toward Gavin. 

"I don't know the first thing about horses." Gavin says, but still taking a couple steps towards him. 

"You don't have to." Jack shrugs. "She does the work for you." Gavin hesitates a moment, and now both Jack and the horse are staring at him. _Fuck it._

He steps forward and grabs the lead from the older man, and sees that same smile from him again. "What do I do?" He asks, now just holding a piece of rope limply while a giant four legged animal stares at him.

"Lead her out to the grass. She'll just walk around a bit." Jack says and turns his attention to the second horse in the trailer. 

Gavin does as he's told, he slowly and gently leads the animal out further into the grassy area. It's mostly dead, brown and yellow stuff but the horse seems happy to be standing on something that's not metal or rubber. She sniffs at the ground and happily shakes her head— Gavin can't help but smile.

His eyes are eventually drawn to the trailer again, where Jack is leading out the second horse. This horse is much larger than the first. The coat is white with with little specks of grey all over, especially so on the face and rump, but the mane and tail are as black as midnight. This horse is huffing and snorting, head bobbing back and forth and looking like it would have sprinted out of that trailer if Jack hadn't had a grip on the lead. 

Jack leads this horse over to where Gavin was still idly holding onto the first one. He doesn't say anything, just watches the animals mingle for a moment, lets them sniff and munch on the healthy grass they can find. They stamp their hooves into the dirt, kicking up dust and bits of grass. They look pleased to be out of the confines of the metal trailer. 

"Do they have names?" Gavin asks after a minute or two has passed.

"Of course," Jack says, gently running his free hand along the neck of the lighter horse. "this is Taurus." he gives the horse a robust pat on the shoulder. "And that little lady there is Athena." Jack's seemingly signature smile is back.

Gavin looks from Jack, to his hand holding the rope and follows the line of it to this horse's face, and she's staring at him as if to ask _'Did you say my name?'_

"Those are wonderful names." Gavin says, giving a dopey smile to this horse that's staring at him, and for the last five or ten minutes or however long he'd been standing here with these animals, he'd completely forgotten about the situation that brought him here. He'd just been released from prison three days ago— and had been in there for damn near a year. Suddenly a wave of nausea rolls through him. He hasn't exactly lied to this man, but he hasn't been truthful either. In truth, it's not the lying that has him feeling sick, it's the worry that these people he's about to spend an unknown amount of time with will _find out._ Gavin has been lying forever, but the one time he got caught, it nearly cost him his life.

He manages to shake the feeling, but when he looks back at the man with him, Gavin can tell that he noticed the shift in emotions. Thankfully, Jack doesn't bother him about it. Instead, he says "Let's head inside." he takes the lead from Gavin and with a little bit of coercion, he wrangles the horses back into the trailer. He shuts the door, locks the trailer and the truck and starts walking toward the motel, waving for Gavin to follow him. 

The outside of the building is a dump. The walls look like they're crumbling, the paint is peeling and the roof might cave in at any moment. Gavin's first good look at this establishment has him second guessing his decision to stay, but he follows Jack into the building anyway. When he gets inside there's a small feeling of relief— the inside is relatively modern, clean and everything appears to be in good shape. He's still concerned about the state of the structure on the outside but at least he might not be eaten by eats while he sleeps. 

"Lindsay!" Jack says enthusiastically when they get to the front desk. The woman standing behind it looks up from the computer monitor and an easy smile forms on her face. 

"Hi, Jack." Her voice is high but gentle. "How did the show go?" She asks, seemingly genuinely interested in the result, but she suddenly notices that someone is standing next to this man, and Gavin watches her eyes flick back and forth between them a couple times. Jack discusses his horses for a minute with her before changing the subject.

"Anyway Lindsay, the reason I stopped in," he claps a hand on Gavin's shoulder, startling him slightly. "This is Gavin."

Gavin reaches out to shake her hand, he figures it's the polite thing to do, and he should attempt to make a good impression. "Nice to meet you, Gavin."

"My pleasure." Gavin replies out of habit, and he watches Lindsay's eyes go one size larger. 

"Oh, an Englishman." She smiles curiously. 

"He's from Los Angeles." Jack starts, and Gavin appreciates his kindness so far, but wishes he wasn't introducing him like an orphanage would introduce a kid to his new parent. "He's a little down on his luck right now, so I thought you could arrange a room for him to stay in for a while?" 

Gavin watches as Lindsay's expression seems to drop for a moment, her eyebrows knitting together for a fraction of a second before it evens out again, and she nods happily. "Sure thing." she says, clicking around on the computer screen in front of her. "How long did you plan on staying, Gavin?" 

Lindsay is looking directly at him, and for once, Jack doesn't answer for him. "I'm not entirely certain, if I'm honest." Gavin says. "A week, at least?" he hopes that's not asking for too much.

She smiles sweetly at him. "Of course." She picks up a tablet from the desk and hands it to him. "Just need some info from you first." 

Gavin looks at the screen in his hands— it's asking for his full name, phone number and credit card information, all of which he is foolishly nervous about giving. He swallows hard, but types it all in anyway. _It's not like they're going to do a background check on me._ He thinks it with enough conviction to persuade himself. The next page has room choices and rates all laid out for him. He picks the second cheapest option so he gets internet and after he's done tapping away at the screen, he hands the tablet back to Lindsay, who almost immediately pulls a set of old fashioned keys from the drawer. 

"Here you go, Mr. Free." she says, holding the keys out to him. He winces, hearing his own last name. "Your room is 22, on the west side of the building." 

Gavin takes the key and turns to face Jack, who has his arms crossed over his chest, but he's practically beaming. Gavin wonders what the hell he did to deserve kind people around him. He opens his mouth to say _something_ , anything to Jack to thank him, but before he can, the older man cuts him off. 

"Here," he says, holding out Gavin's backpack. He must have gone to get it out of the truck while he was busy with Lindsay. Gavin takes it and swings one strap over his shoulder.

"Thank you." Gavin says quietly, not sure what else he should say.

"Of course," Jack says, that full smile peeking through his beard again. "Glad you could get settled in. If you need anything else, let me know, alright?" he pats Gavin on the shoulder. "Lindsay has my number."

Gavin can only nod and mumble another thank you, and without any further adieu, Jack twists on his heel and walks out of the motel. Gavin watches him check on the horses and trailer before climbing into the truck and hears that familiar sound of a chugging diesel as Jack pulls away and out of the parking lot. 

He turns back to look at Lindsay who has returned to punching buttons on the computer. She doesn't seem to notice that he's even still standing there, so he makes his way to his room. When he finds the door with a golden "22" painted on it, he pulls the keys from his pocket and unlocks the door. He pushes into the room and is immediately blasted with a cold front from the air conditioning. He flicks on the light and illuminates the room. It's surprisingly nicely furnished— a queen sized bed sits in the middle of the room and a small lounging chair off to one side. Across from the bed there's a television mounted to the wall, a dresser underneath that and a mini-fridge off to the side. On the nightstand by the bed, he can see instructions for the internet and television. Gavin checks the bathroom, which even has a bathtub, and is satisfied with the level of cleanliness. 

All at once, he throws his backpack onto the floor and takes three big strides to get to the bed. He pulls the blanket and sheets off, piling them up in a mound on the floor, not caring where they land and he falls face first into the mattress. He lies there like that for a moment, his face pressed up against the cool, soft sheets and he rubs his cheek against it, soaking up the comfort of it. 

He almost drifts off to sleep right then, but his stomach suddenly gurgles angrily. "Bugger me." Gavin says quietly, slowly getting up from the comfort of the sheets. He reaches down to rifle through his backpack and pulls out the battery charger he'd bought. He plugs the charger into the outlet on the nightstand, and plugs his phone into the charger and sets on the task of figuring out the internet.

After a few tries, he's connected to an unsurprisingly terrible internet connection, but it lets him check his credit card statement and google where to find some nearby food. There's a sandwich place and a waffle house within walking distance from the motel and he glances at the time at the top of the phone. It reads 23:51, and although neither place has hours listed, he hopes that the waffle place is twenty-four hours. He falls back onto the bed for just a moment longer before he father's the strength to finally get up.

шшшшш

When Gavin walks back into the lobby, he notices that Lindsay seems to be closing up the place. She notices him now, "Did you need anything?" she asks, a big set of keys in her hands.

"I was actually going to try to find some food."

"Oh good," she nods. "There's a diner not far from here that serves food until 2am. They don't have much except for breakfast and burgers but it's good food." she explains.

He already knew that, but he thanks her anyway. "Will I be able to get back in?" He asks, laughing nervously. 

"Oh yeah." Lindsay says, waving a hand. "I'm out of here at eight, most days. Fridays are my late nights and I leave at midnight, but the second key with your room key will open up the main door, so don't worry, you won't be locked out." She says, smiling widely. 

Gavin starts to make his way out the front door when Lindsay calls after him, "Well, have a good night," and it's the third or fourth time that he's been reminded that he's apparently lost his manners in the 11 months he spent behind locked doors. Americans had never found Gavin to be overly polite anyway, but now when he compares himself to the people in Texas, he feels awfully rude. 

"Yeah, good night." Gavin returns, and when he looks back at Lindsay, she still has a kind smile on her face. She nods at him, and he pushes the door open to step outside. The stark contrast of the cool, conditioned air of the motel against the suffocating heat of Texas midnight almost makes Gavin gag. A majority of Texas' landscape is flat, so he can see the diner from the motel, but it's a little further than he thought. He makes his way down the street, mostly staring at his shoes while he walks, his hands shoved into the front pockets of his jeans. 

When he gets to the restaurant, a bell above the door jingles as he pulls it open. There's a man behind a counter, and two servers chatting at one of the booths in the corner. Including Gavin, the four of them seem to be the only ones in the building. The man behind the counter nods at Gavin when he walks in, "Hi there."

"Hi." Gavin looks around. "Sit anywhere?" 

"Yes, sir. One of the ladies will be right with you." the man says, and when Gavin takes a seat at a booth by the front windows, one of the servers comes to his table. He reads "Kdin" on the name tag pinned to her shirt. 

"Ready to order, or do you want to start with a drink?" she asks, pushing up the glasses on her nose. 

Gavin is flipping the menu back and forth, and Lindsay was right, it's mostly breakfast, but when he sees the picture of pancakes, hash browns and eggs, his stomach makes another pained sound. 

"I'll just take water to drink." he says, putting the menu down on the table. "But I'm ready to order." If his server wants to say anything about his accent or about how she's never seen him before in this town of what's probably 600 people, she doesn't. She dutifully takes his order, smiles, and says she'll be back.

She does come back with a pitcher of water, and flips over the glass that was already on Gavin's table to fill it. From the moment the cold water and ice are in the glass, it's already perspiring, and Gavin's not sure he's exactly ready for what a Texas summer might entail. For the past year, Gavin hasn't had much to be thankful about, but he makes sure to thank the server— when she refills his water, when she brings his food, when she checks up on him, and when she clears the table after he's finished eating. She leaves his check on his table and when Gavin goes to the counter to pay it, he leaves her a generous tip. 

He's signing his name on the receipt and the guy behind the counter finally asks what Gavin was afraid of the whole time. "You new in town?" he asks, taking the paper from Gavin. "Never seen you around here before." 

"Yeah, I've just moved here." Gavin lies, and the man behind the counter nods slowly.

"Well alright then, welcome to Washburn." he says, handing his card back. Gavin returns the pen and thanks him before leaving for the motel. He shouldn't be tired, considering all the sleep he's had on the rides into this town, but he can't wait to go to bed.

шшшшш

When Gavin first wakes up, his phone says it's 11:34 am. Gavin thinks it would be alright if he slept a little bit longer. The next time he wakes up it's 3:57 in the afternoon. He had lazily looked at the clock on his phone, his body feeling heavy and weighed down, but when he sees the time, he bolts up out of his bed. He looks around, suddenly remembering where he is, and laughs at himself. For a moment he had a feeling like he was going to be late for work, or yelled at by the prison guards for sleeping too long. He takes a deep breath and settles down. He's a free man. A broke, jobless and guilty man, but he's free.

Gavin eventually rolls out of bed and makes his way to the shower. He's desperate to shave but that will have to wait. In the meantime, he runs the water as hot as it will go, in a sorry attempt to burn the filth that has built up over the last 11 months. He uses the terrible soap and shampoo that the motel supplies; he uses the entire bar of soap, washing every inch of himself a hundred times over, and when the soap is gone, he leans against the wall, soaking up the water that cascades over him, turning the knob a little further every time the water gets a little colder. 

Eventually he runs out of hot water, so he gets out, dries himself off with the scratchy towel he's provided and instead of putting his dirty clothes back on, he opts for hanging out in his room naked as the day he was born. The room is bordering on frigid and steam billows out from the open bathroom door, it makes him shiver and his hands are shaking when he reaches for his phone on the nightstand. He sits cross legged on the bed, unlocking his phone with his fingerprint.

He's paranoid about his credit card— the only form of money he has, so he checks the balance again. Thankfully, everything is as it should be, and he decides to address his lack of personal items. He opens up Amazon and starts to fill up his cart with a couple shirts, underwear, an electric razor and a toothbrush. He's already typed the motel's address into the shipping section before he realizes that maybe he should ask if this is alright. He picks up the phone provided in the room and dials the front desk. 

"Lindsay speaking, how can I help?" Lindsay answers, voice as bright as ever.

"Hi uhm, it's Gavin." He says dumbly. She can probably see who called.

"Hi, Gavin. Did you need something?" 

"I realise this is a little unusual, but would it be alright if I had some items delivered to the motel?" he asks, all in a rush.

"Items?" she asks. Her tone sounds more curious than it does skeptical.

"Well, I'm sort of here on a whim. I didn't bring any of my things with me, so I have no clothes or anything like that. If I order them online, can they be delivered here?" He explains, more slowly this time, and her response is immediate.

"Oh! Of course, that would be fine. Believe it or not, you aren't the first person who's has to do this sort of thing. No worries, Gavin." she assures him, and before she even really got the whole sentence out, he'd hit _'place order'._

шшшшш

A week and a half later and Gavin is standing in the lobby of the motel, Lindsay's baby Iris in his arms, cooing at her softly and playing games with her. Lindsay is taking the day off early, packing up her things into her purse and turning off the computers.

"Okay, Iris." Lindsay says, swinging her purse over her shoulder. "Time to go! Say goodbye to Gavin." Iris looks at Lindsay, and then back at Gavin, who smiles at her fondly. Iris makes an unintelligible sound and returns a happy smile. Gavin hands her to Lindsay, who thanks him for the help and wishes him a good night. He waves to Iris as the baby watches him from over her mother's shoulder. 

With nothing left to do for the day, Gavin goes back to his room and pulls his phone from his pocket. He's been trying to find a job for the last couple days. He never expected to enjoy anything about Texas, and truth be told, he really doesn't. It's too hot and sticky, there's hardly ever any breeze, and when there is, it's because a hurricane or thunderstorm is whipping through the town. But Gavin can't help but want to stay. There's something charming about this little town and the surrounding countryside, not to mention that Lindsay and Jack have been nothing but supportive and kind.

He tries looking for local jobs online, but it seems like there's not much available to him. There's plenty of things that he feels he's entirely unqualified for— selling insurance, fixing farm equipment, cutting hair, and he puts his phone down in frustration.

The next day, when Gavin sees Lindsay, he decides to ask her about work. He's watched the desk at the motel before, even checked some guests in and answered the phone, but he knows Lindsay can't afford to pay him.

"You know, it's funny you ask." she says. "Ryan has been looking for help around his place, you should ask him."

"Who's Ryan?"

"Oh, right." she laughs at herself. "Ryan is the veterinarian for all the farms and ranches around here." 

Gavin groans. "I don't know that I'm exactly cut out for veterinary work." He is notoriously queasy, even just the sight or smell of blood can make him gag. 

"I would get a hold of him to make sure, but I think he's just looking for help around his office." she shrugs. "He'll pay you good, but it's gonna be one hell of a commute." Gavin opens his mouth to say that he doesn't have any way to make 'one hell of a commute' but Lindsay keeps talking. "I'll see what I can do for you, though." 

''Thank you.'' Gavin says, "I don't have phone service, he'll have to contact me on Facebook." he explains, and Lindsay nods understandingly. Gavin had made another private account after he'd been released from jail for just this kind of situation. He was already friends with Lindsay and Jack, in case he needed to get a hold of them.

"I'll keep you updated." Lindsay says, smiling.

шшшшш

The next morning, Gavin's phone vibrates three times in rapid succession, the sound of it wobbling across the hard wood of the nightstand makes him jerk awake. He opens it up to see what the notifications were, now that he's definitely up. There's a message from Lindsay, and a new friend request: Ryan Haywood. Gavin assumes this is the veterinarian Ryan, and a quick check of his profile shows that it must be.

His location is Texas and he has a business listed as "Haywood Veterinary Services." Gavin accepts the friend request and right after, a message appears in his inbox.

_Gavin Free,_  
_Lindsay passed your inquiry about work to me yesterday, and I would like to get a hold of you to ask you a couple questions. Please send me a message to let me know when you are available for a phone call or meeting. I understand that you have no phone service, so a Facebook call would be fine. I'm available until 4:30pm today, and all morning tomorrow before 12pm._  
_Thank you for your interest._  
_Ryan Haywood_

Gavin almost laughs at how formal this is, but at the moment, he appreciates the format. He sends a message back saying that he will be available in 30 minutes for a phone call, he wants to wake up and knock some of the sleep out of his voice. He goes to the bathroom to brush his teeth and splash some water on his face. He takes a few minutes to study himself in the mirror— he looks better than he did when he first arrived, but Gavin still feels quite unlike himself. He has ever since he got out. 

He puts on a clean shirt and a pair of grey jeans, he always gets dressed, whether he's going to leave this room or not, he figures its best to be prepared. Before he knows it, his phone is buzzing and jingling on the bed. Gavin nearly rushes over to it to pick up the Facebook call. 

"Gavin speaking." He decides to say.

"Gavin," a deep, rumbling voice says. "This is Ryan Haywood, please just call me Ryan." Gavin can hear him clear his throat. "Do you have a few minutes?"

"Of course." Gavin says, nodding.

"Good. I wanted to ask you a couple questions." Ryan explains. "This isn't like an interview or a test, I'm just trying to gauge if this is the right position for you, that's all." 

"Sure." Gavin suddenly feels nervous.

"Okay, great." Ryan hums. "Gavin, do you have any previous experience with animals or caring for animals?"

"Well," Gavin takes a deep breath. He really doesn't, and he figures it's probably best not to lie to this man. "Not exactly. I mean I've had pets before, but I've never dealt with farm animals or livestock." 

"That's alright." Ryan assures him. "This is a veterinary office, but it's not like I'm going to throw you into a bloat surgery on your first day." Gavin is pretty sure that was supposed to be a joke, but Ryan's tone is so flat, it's hard to tell. "Gavin," Ryan says his name again. "What kind of jobs have you had previously?"

What a hilarious question, Gavin thinks. "Uhm," Gavin says, racking his brain for what he did before he was a criminal. "Well I was a cameraman years ago. I used a lot of technology and equipment to create and edit film." Gavin tries to make it sound as good as he can.

"Mhmm." Is Ryan's only response.

"I have a lot of experience with uh," Gavin wonders how to word this. "Documents, I suppose. Filing, research, proofreading, things like that. I worked a lot with computers." 

"Alright." Ryan replies, and Gavin swears he can hear the scratch of a pen. _Is he taking notes?_ "And what brought you to Texas, Gavin? Lindsay says you're from LA." 

"Oh," Gavin laughs. "I just needed a change of scenery, really." What a bold-faced lie, but Ryan takes it.

"I can understand that." Ryan pauses, and Gavin is about to ask something but the older man speaks up again. "Well how about this, Gavin. If you're free tomorrow, you can come by the office in the morning before my calls, you can look around and check it out, see if it's something you'd be interested in. I'll let you see what you'll be working with, and if you think you won't hate it, we can talk about going further after that. Sound okay to you?" 

That's a lot to digest, but Gavin quickly agrees. "Although, Ryan." He says. "I don't have any transportation. I don't have a driver's license.. I didn't need one in LA, and I certainly don't have a car." 

"That's not really a problem." Ryan's response is immediate, like he didn't even have to think about it. "I can pick you up."

"Oh," Gavin stutters. "Well alright."

"Tomorrow morning, alright? I'll be there around 7:30." That's early as hell, but Gavin figures he doesn't really have a choice, so he agrees to it easily. "Okay great, see you then, Gavin." Ryan says politely, and just like that, he hangs up the phone. 

Gavin doesn't even get a chance to put his phone down when it buzzes again, another message from Ryan Haywood:

_I forgot to mention, wear something you don't mind getting dirty._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh yeah and uh, i've done some geographical research of texas and its bits to sort of get a mental map of where this thing is taking place but all of the towns / names i will use are fictional. as far as i know, washburn texas doesn't exist, and if it does, it's not the one i've described here.  
> i'm trying to do the same thing for like, restaurants and stores as well. all fictional.  
> just a heads up.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr or twitter at the same username if that's something you like.


End file.
